


Just Another Monster

by fallintosanity (yopumpkinhead)



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 08:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15482052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yopumpkinhead/pseuds/fallintosanity
Summary: Genesis learns the hard way that his Jenova powers didn't go away when Cloud cured his degeneration. Sephiroth decides to fix things.





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgeofZero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeofZero/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Fifth Act](https://archiveofourown.org/works/362128) by [Sinnatious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnatious/pseuds/Sinnatious). 



> This is a fanfic of a fanfic - Sinnatious's amazing [The Fifth Act](https://archiveofourown.org/works/362128/chapters/587564). If you haven't read that, this will make no sense. 
> 
> It's also a gift for AgeofZero, who is entirely at fault for this. <3

Genesis leaned on the balcony railing, letting the ocean breeze ruffle his hair. The sun was warm on his bare shoulders, but the breeze kept it from being unpleasantly hot. The beach below was a bustle of activity, civilian tourists lounging on towels or splashing in the waves, a group of Seconds playing volleyball a little further down. Children built sandcastles while the adults chatted and laughed. It was the kind of picture-perfect vacation day Costa del Sol loved to showcase in advertising brochures.

Then the door to Genesis’s hotel room slammed open with enough force to rattle the walls.

Genesis spun, one hand reaching for his sword on reflex even though he wore nothing but swim trunks at the moment. Recognizing Cloud standing in the doorway, he started to relax, but tensed again when he realized Cloud was all but shaking in fury. Cloud’s blue eyes blazed - literally, their mako glow brighter than normal - and before Genesis could say anything he demanded, “ _Why?!_ ”

Genesis blinked at him, too startled to respond. The only other times he’d seen Cloud so angry were when Sephiroth had done something to set him off, and to have all that deadly rage directed at _him_ instead was… frankly, a little frightening. Genesis had absolutely _no_ idea what he’d done to ignite such fury - this was the first he’d even seen Cloud this morning. Rallying his composure, he said carefully, “...Cloud?”

Cloud took a few steps into the room, predatory and dangerous. Like Genesis, he wore only swim trunks, his bare feet covered in sand like he’d just come from the beach. He didn’t have that ridiculous sword, but he wasn’t any less dangerous without it, even to Genesis. His hands were balled into white-knuckled fists at his sides, and when he spoke his voice was a tight snarl. “Why’d you— What did you—”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Genesis said helplessly. He started to spread his arms, a theatrical gesture of harmlessness, but Cloud’s eyes snapped to his hands with deadly intensity and Genesis froze again. “Cloud,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

After a long, tense moment, Cloud lifted his eyes to meet Genesis’s gaze. Genesis knew him well enough to recognize when he was struggling for words, so said nothing. Waiting.

Finally Cloud shook his head, then rolled his shoulders back. His stance changed: standing taller but with a lazy, almost feline slouch, looking up at Genesis from beneath his bangs as he raised his hands in a theatrical pose. “ _My friend, the fates are cruel / There are no dreams, no honor remains / The arrow has left the bow of the goddess. My soul, corrupted by vengeance / Hath endured torment_ ,” he said, and his voice was different too: an orator’s rhythm, the round vowels of a stage performer. There was something horribly familiar about the whole thing, but it wasn’t until Cloud dropped the pose that Genesis remembered standing in the Equipment Room with Angeal and Sephiroth, watching as Cloud pulled on the personality and mannerisms of Zack Fair like an actor’s role.

Except it wasn’t Zack whose character Cloud had just worn - it was _Genesis_.

“What…?” he whispered. Cloud had implied his ability to mimic Zack was a result of events that had happened in his timeline - which didn’t apply to Genesis. “How—”

“You’re trying to make me into your copy, aren’t you,” Cloud spat. “Make me your _puppet.”_ He took another step closer, and Genesis found himself backing up, until his hips bumped the balcony railing. Cloud added, “I remember - Zack saw - in my time, you could—”

Genesis raised his hands again, slowly, trying to appear harmless even as he wracked his mind for understanding. Copies, puppets... “You mean like Banora,” he guessed. Angeal, while suffering the effects of degradation, had been able to make imperfect, mutated copies of himself. Hollander had performed similar experiments while he’d held Cloud captive, as evidenced by his warehouse of mutant monsters. “But I never—”

Then his eyes fell on his own hands, held out in front of him, the skin pale and bare in the bright sun, and realization hit him like a sword blow.

Touch.

Genesis and Cloud and the other SOLDIERs had been in Costa del Sol for four days, and Genesis had spent as much of that time as possible in physical contact with Cloud. He’d noticed some time ago that Cloud avoided touch of any kind; the only person he allowed within touching distance was Kunsel, and sometimes Zack. It had bothered Genesis - he knew how important touch was to a healthy mind and body, and he’d thought the least he could do for the man who’d saved him from degradation was to offer a similar healing.

(He would never admit it out loud, but he was also achingly jealous that Kunsel - a Second who’d only been promoted to First as a bribe for his silence regarding Nibelheim - got to touch Cloud and he didn’t. Cloud was _Genesis’s_ savior, _Genesis’s_ time-traveler. He’d found him first; it was horribly unfair that first Sephiroth and now Kunsel could effortlessly claim so much of Cloud’s attention while Genesis was left with scraps.)

He’d begun his scheme several weeks ago, finding excuses to thump Cloud’s back or drape an arm over his shoulders, and it had started to work - enough so that when they arrived in Costa del Sol, he’d stepped up his efforts. Leaning on Cloud’s shoulder, or sprawling in the sun with his head pillowed on Cloud’s leg (which had earned him a faintly exasperated glare, but no actual attempt to shake him off, so he’d considered it a success). His degradation, long since cured, had been the furthest thing from his mind. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might have abilities similar to those Angeal had demonstrated back in Banora - nor had he ever given thought to how those abilities might work.

But now the answer was painfully obvious. Everything came back to Jenova, to her cells which had been forced upon all of them. It probably hadn’t mattered before, when they’d spent all their time in SOLDIER uniforms, full-length pants and jackets and gloves. But here on the beach, they’d all opted for casual, skin-baring clothes to soak up as much sunlight as possible. Every time Genesis had touched Cloud, it had been skin to skin, and that must have been enough for Jenova to work her mischief.

_Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul_

_Pride is lost_

_Wings stripped away, the end is nigh._

The verse ran through his head but froze on his tongue, the image of Cloud reciting a different verse with Genesis’s own mannerisms too close, too eerie. Something must have shown on his face, though, because Cloud spat, “You _do_ know. You did this, you tried to _control_ me—”

Genesis shook his head rapidly. “Cloud, I had no idea— I didn’t mean—” Stopped, tried again. “It wasn’t my intent. I wasn’t even aware it was possible.”

Cloud made a low sound too bitter to be a laugh. “Of course not,” he said, bitingly sharp. “Did Lazard put you up to this? Was he worried I’d go out of control again? Or did _Sephiroth—_ ”

Cloud cut himself off as footsteps slapped the floor and Kunsel skidded into the room, wide-eyed and concerned. He was dressed like Cloud, in swim trunks and bare feet covered in sand, and was breathing hard - Cloud must have run to Genesis’s room at full speed, leaving Kunsel to catch up.

Cloud’s eyes still blazed with fury and he didn’t look away from Genesis as Kunsel moved up beside him. Then Kunsel touched Cloud’s arm, gentle, and that _hurt_ \- that Kunsel could still do that when Cloud would probably never let Genesis near him again.

“Cloud,” Kunsel said quietly. “You know Genesis of all people wouldn’t do this to you. Not on purpose.”

“He’s right,” Genesis said, though he could hear the pain in his own voice. “I had no idea it was happening.” Apologies were not normally in his repertoire, but for Cloud, for this, he’d make an exception - though he already knew it would do no good. “I’m sorry, Cloud. Truly”

Silence for a long minute, except Cloud’s harsh ragged breathing. Finally he huffed out an angry breath, not quite a sigh, then spun and stalked out of the room. Kunsel shot Genesis an apologetic look, and hurried after him.

Genesis turned his back on the door, missing the flourish his long coat would have added to the motion, and leaned on the railing. The wood creaked under his grip, and the ocean breeze, so relaxing just a minute ago, now felt like sandpaper on his skin. He’d been _so close_ to winning Cloud’s trust, to convincing Cloud to _see_ him, to forget about Sephiroth for once. But now…

_My friend, do you fly away now?_

_To a world that abhors you and I?_

_All that awaits you is a somber morrow_

_No matter where the winds may blow._

Now Genesis was nothing more than another monster to Cloud.


	2. Sephiroth

Four days into a week-long, all-expenses-paid-by-ShinRa vacation to Costa del Sol, and Sephiroth had  _ finally _ finished enough of his paperwork backlog to actually leave his hotel suite for the first time since they’d arrived. He was headed to the beach - preferably far down the beach, enough out of range of Cloud that his anger wasn’t a constant buzzing annoyance at the back of Sephiroth’s mind. He had no idea what had made Cloud so upset; he was merely glad that for once it wasn’t him. 

Then he rounded the corner to the elevators and nearly ran into Genesis. 

All the Firsts had sufficiently heightened reflexes that under normal circumstances, colliding with one another was nearly impossible. But Genesis had his head down, his arms rigid at his sides, and he clearly wasn’t paying attention. Sephiroth still managed to get out of the way, but it was odd enough to push thoughts of the beach out of his mind. “Genesis,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing I want to discuss with  _ you _ ,” Genesis growled, and kept stomping down the hall. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, something expensive-looking he’d already drunk half of, if the level of liquid remaining was any indication. 

Sephiroth paused. First Cloud had gotten so upset it had pinged across their connection, now Genesis was acting the way he had after the shoulder injury last year which had led to his degradation.  _ Something _ was clearly going on, and Sephiroth wasn’t about to let them keep him in the dark the way they had before. “Why not me?” he asked, keeping his voice level. 

Genesis whirled on him, and he’d  _ definitely _ drunk half that bottle and likely all of another one, because he wobbled with the motion. The finger he pointed accusingly at Sephiroth trembled, but that might have been the rage that also shook his voice. “This is all  _ your _ fault!”

“I haven’t left my room for four days,” Sephiroth said dryly. “How is ...whatever this is, possibly my fault?” 

“ _ Jenova _ ,” Genesis hissed, venom in his voice. “Project G, Hollander, Hojo—All of it.”

Sephiroth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was used to Cloud equating him with Jenova and Hojo, but that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy him when others did the same. “I still fail to see what this has to do with me,” he said. But he could put two and two together, so he added, “It’s about Cloud, isn’t it.” 

Genesis swayed, staggered, fetched up against the wall, and swung the bottle to his lips for a long pull. “Dreams of the morrow hath the monster,” he slurred. “All good is lost, life stripped away, the end is nigh.”

Sephiroth’s eyebrows went up. “That’s enough of that,” he said, and plucked the bottle from Genesis’s fingers. If the man had managed to get drunk enough to mangle  _ Loveless _ that badly, it was time to cut him off. 

Genesis yelped and lunged for the bottle, but even if Sephiroth hadn’t outclassed him in speed under normal circumstances, dodging his grasp in this state was trivial. He held the bottle out of reach, and steadied Genesis with his other hand. “Explain,” he ordered. “ _ Without _ misquoting  _ Loveless, _ if you please.”

That earned him a glare, but Sephiroth met it levelly and waited. He knew he had far more patience than Genesis, especially when there was drama about. Finally Genesis looked away, his shoulders slumping. “Apparently Cloud’s ability to mimic Angeal’s puppy wasn’t a one-off incident confined to his timeline,” he said. Bitterness laced the words, nearly as strong as the stench of alcohol on his breath, and he added plaintively, “And now he hates me.”

It took Sephiroth only a second to work through what must have happened.  _ How _ it had happened was a different question entirely, but that could be dealt with later. He hauled Genesis up the hall and into his room, depositing him in a despondent heap on the bed. “I’ll deal with Cloud,” he said. “You stay here, and don’t drink anything else.”

“Hey!” Genesis protested. He staggered up off the bed, reaching for the bottle of whiskey Sephiroth still held; Sephiroth shoved him back down, lifted the bottle to his mouth, and downed the rest of it in one long swallow. It was abuse of good whiskey, but slightly less a waste than dumping it in the sink. And he couldn’t get drunk off it anyway. “ _ Hey! _ ” Genesis said again, then fell back on the bed in a dramatic pose of resignation. “I paid for that.”

“I’ll owe you a bottle later,” Sephiroth said, unmoved. “Do I need to call Angeal to babysit you?” 

Genesis scowled at him. “No.” 

“Good.” Sephiroth dropped the empty bottle in the wastebasket. Genesis would sober up quickly enough, and the threat of a lecture from Angeal would be enough to keep him in his room until he did. “Now stay put.” 

He left Genesis sulking on the bed, and, after a quick stop in his own suite, headed to the other wing of the resort, following his sense of Cloud until he found the right door. It was locked, but one of the perks of being a general and therefore technically a chaperone of this trip was that Sephiroth had a master keycard for all the rooms. He opened the door without bothering to knock, either physically or through his mental connection to Cloud. 

Inside the room, Cloud and Kunsel sat back-to-back on the bed, Cloud with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head bowed, Kunsel leaning back with his head on Cloud’s shoulder. They both startled when Sephiroth stepped in, which said a great deal about how upset Cloud was - he should have noticed Sephiroth coming. 

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said. He gave him a moment to register that Sephiroth held Masamune in one hand, then continued, “Outside. We’re sparring.”

Blue eyes flicked to his face, then away. There was exhaustion in that gaze, and a pain so deep it hurt to look at. “No.” 

“That’s an order, SOLDIER,” Sephiroth said. 

Kunsel looked between him and Cloud worriedly. “Um, sir, this is  _ not _ a good time—”

“I’m aware,” Sephiroth said. Cloud’s First Tsurugi was propped against the far wall, and he strode over to it. He’d intended to pick it up and toss it to Cloud, but at the last instant Cloud darted off the bed and snatched the sword away. Sephiroth moved in close to him, let a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth - both things he knew Cloud hated, things he suspected his alternate-timeline self had used to intimidate him. “Outside,” he repeated. “Now.” 

Taunting Cloud was a fine line - Sephiroth wanted to provoke him into sparring, without further emphasizing the hurt Genesis had inadvertently caused. Cloud was glaring at him, his grip on First Tsurugi’s hilt white-knuckled, but he was hunched in on himself, withdrawn in the way that meant he was about to storm off and lock himself away somewhere. 

That wouldn’t do at all. Sephiroth sifted through his memories of the nightmares he’d inadvertently witnessed, Cloud’s reactions to seemingly innocuous things Sephiroth said or did. Then he smiled, as gently as he could, and said, “Your fighting spirit is gone. That’s too bad.”

_ That _ did the trick. Cloud’s eyes flashed, and the connection between them blazed incandescent with fury. Cloud swung his sword, heedless of such mundane things as  _ furniture _ or  _ ceilings _ , and Sephiroth barely managed to dodge out of the way. He angled for the balcony, bursting through the double doors and flipping over another swing of First Tsurugi to land on the balcony railing. The beach below was crowded with civilians, but there was a relatively empty stretch a few hundred yards further where the sand gave way to rocks.

He blocked a third blow, dodged a fourth, smiled at Cloud again, and leaped off the railing. Running sideways along the hotel’s facade was a tricky art, but Cloud stayed right on his heels. They traded a few more blows, then Sephiroth baited Cloud into a wide upward swing and used the momentum from the strike to launch himself over the heads of the nearest beachgoers and into the air above the water. 

Cloud followed close behind, and they clashed twice in the air before Sephiroth flipped around to land lightly in the shallows, well clear of the civilians. Distantly he noted a crowd was gathering, tourists and Seconds both drawn by the unexpected show of a sparring match between ShinRa’s two top SOLDIERs. He also glimped Kunsel and Zack running along the front of the crowd, recruiting a pair of Seconds to help keep people safely back— 

First Tsurugi sang past his ear, uncomfortably close, and Sephiroth snapped his attention back to the fight. Cloud’s face had twisted into a snarl, and he fought with a blind fury Sephiroth hadn’t seen since Wutai. Sephiroth switched to a more defensive pattern, letting Cloud wear himself out a bit as they fought back and forth in knee-deep waves and over rocky ground. Finally Cloud eased off slightly, that initial bout of rage burning itself out, unsustainable even for someone with Cloud’s determination. 

Sephiroth said, as if they were strolling through a ShinRa hallway instead of fighting with deadly weapons, “Genesis told me what happened.” 

“Did he,” Cloud said flatly. He batted Masamune to the side and tried to sneak a second blade in under Sephiroth’s guard. “Why do you care?  _ Did _ you put him up to it?”

Sephiroth twisted out of the way of the second blade, angling Masamune down to capture both swords just long enough to reposition. “Why would I do that?”

Cloud apparently didn’t have an answer for that; he just glowered, snapped his sword back together, and went for the overhead three-pronged blast he favored. Sephiroth slipped backward out of the way and continued, “I’m your commanding officer. If there’s an issue between my SOLDIERs, it’s my responsibility to fix it.” 

As he’d expected, Cloud barked out a harsh laugh. “Since when do you care about the people under your command?” 

“Since they made me General,” Sephiroth replied easily. The intended insult didn’t bother him; he’d known for a long time he didn’t care about others the same way normal people did, just as he’d known since he’d first looked in a mirror that his slit-pupiled eyes and white hair weren’t what normal people had. It didn’t mean he didn’t care at all, but the semantics of the issue weren’t important right now. 

“If you don’t want to believe that,” he continued, “then consider:  _ none _ of us are willing participants in the Jenova project.” He parried First Tsurugi’s downward swing, sliding Masamune up under Cloud’s arm and forcing him to split the sword again for a hurried block. “None of us agreed to be experimented on, none of us agreed to be turned into monsters. Genesis wanted this no more than you did.” 

“So?” Cloud hissed. He flipped back out of Masamune’s range and launched a beam of energy at Sephiroth from the blade in his right hand. “He did it anyway. He should have—he should’ve  _ known _ better!”

“How?” Sephiroth asked. 

Cloud blinked, the question apparently baffling enough to rock him back on his heels. Sephiroth didn’t push his advantage - not with his sword, at least. “You know more about what we’re capable of - what  _ Jenova _ was capable of - than any of us. If  _ you _ don’t tell us, we’ve no way to know.” He paused for effect, then added, “Unless you think we should start experimenting?” 

“Even  _ you _ should know how bad of an idea that is,” Cloud snarled. “ _ Especially _ you.”

“Then if you don’t tell us, and we don’t experiment,” Sephiroth said patiently, “how are we to predict the effects of seemingly innocuous interactions?” He shook his head, letting some of his exasperation show. “Genesis treasures you even more than he hates me. What makes you think he’d deliberately do anything to harm you?” 

Cloud stared at him, shocked enough that Sephiroth probably could have impaled him without him noticing. “You’re… are you… are _you…_ _counseling_ me?” he sputtered, the words oddly choked, as though he couldn’t decide which part of that sentence was more impossible. 

“You went to all this trouble to keep me sane,” Sephiroth said dryly. “I might as well make use of it.” He swung Masamune in a lazy arc to remind Cloud they were still technically sparring. 

Cloud caught the blow with the half-blade in his left hand, but seemed too shocked still to remember to swing the blade in his right. Sephiroth tapped it with Masamune’s tip and smirked. “You’re disappointing your fans.” 

Cloud blinked, then glanced toward the beach, where their audience watched raptly and an especially savvy snack vendor made his way through the crowd. When Cloud registered what was going on, he turned bright red from his ears to his collarbone, the last of his white-hot rage evaporating beneath a surge of embarrassment sharp enough Sephiroth felt it through their connection. Sephiroth waited for Cloud to look back at him, and said, “Can’t have that, can we?” 

That earned him a glare, but only the normal annoyed kind he gave whenever Sephiroth was in his general vicinity. Sephiroth lifted Masamune, deliberately telegraphing his swing to warn Cloud he was about to start sparring in earnest again. 

Cloud’s block was smooth and swift, not the furious flailing of a minute ago. They sparred for a few minutes longer, Sephiroth taking the chance to stretch his muscles and practice fighting in water rather than making any serious effort to overpower Cloud. For his part, Cloud relaxed as much as he ever did when they sparred, which was to say he didn’t actually relax but neither did he slip into what Sephiroth privately thought of as his murder mode. 

When he was confident Cloud had calmed enough to not go off again the moment something reminded him of his anger, Sephiroth broke away and saluted him with his sword, ending the match. Their audience erupted into cheers and applause, and Cloud immediately turned bright red again, ducking his head and refusing to look anywhere in that direction. Sephiroth just waved a lazy hand at the crowd and left the beach, angling back toward the resort. He didn’t stay to see where Cloud went; Kunsel and Zack had already run up to greet him and Sephiroth was confident they could handle any needed follow-up.

He might not care about people the same way normal humans did, he might have been created only to be ShinRa’s perfect weapon, but he  _ did _ care about his friends: Genesis, Angeal, now Cloud and even, slowly, Zack and Kunsel. Disharmony between them was as unpleasant, as  _ wrong _ , to him as his own right hand attacking his left. He couldn’t fix everything between Cloud and Genesis, but this was a start, and already the uncomfortable feeling of discord had faded. 

Smiling to himself, Sephiroth headed into the resort’s cantina. Alcohol might have no effect on him, but he deserved a drink for this anyway.


	3. Cloud

Cloud found Genesis sprawled on the roof of the hotel, his eyes distant as he stared out over the ocean, his feet dangling sadly over the edge. The sun was just beginning to set, painting the water a glowing gold, but the gorgeous view seemed to give Genesis no pleasure. He smelled of whiskey, but appeared sober enough as he glanced disinterestedly at Cloud, then back over the water. Then he did a classic double-take. “Cloud?”

Cloud came up beside him, not quite near enough to touch, but not so far away as to be obviously rude. He’d changed out of his swim trunks, partially because they’d been soaked after his spar with Sephiroth, but mostly because the idea of skin contact with people - however casual or incidental, however human the person - was more than he could stomach right now. He saw Genesis notice, saw the flash of hurt cross his features before he got himself under control. 

Genesis watched him warily as he sat down, probably afraid Cloud was there to attack him, but when Cloud did nothing except kick his own feet out over the roof’s edge, Genesis went back to staring over the water. He was clearly trying to look relaxed, and just as clearly failing: his shoulders tense, his fingers white-knuckled where they gripped the edge of the roof, and a deep pain in his eyes.

Cloud took a breath to speak, but Genesis beat him to it: “ _ Ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest. _ ” 

If nothing else, having a piece of Genesis inside him made it easier to speak his language of poetry. “ _ There is no hate, only joy, _ ” Cloud answered quietly. “ _ For you are beloved by the goddess / Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds _ .”

Genesis turned to stare at him, the pain in his eyes slowly fading to a tiny spark of hope. “Cloud…” 

He shrugged, abruptly uncomfortable. “If  _ Sephiroth _ of all people feels the need to tell me I’m being an ass, then maybe I’m being an ass.” 

Genesis stared at him for a second longer, then threw his head back in a laugh. “Oh, I wish I could have seen that.” 

Cloud shuddered. “If it ever happens again, kill me on the spot.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Genesis teased. But then his smile faded, his expression turning pained once more. “Cloud…” he said quietly. “I truly am sorry. I had no idea what was happening.” 

“...yeah,” Cloud said. He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He knew he should say more, but he wasn’t sure  _ what _ . It wasn’t okay, and he couldn’t just write it off, even if Sephiroth was right that he shouldn’t blame Genesis for not knowing what would happen. 

They sat in silence for a while, Cloud trying to think of something to say, Genesis watching the waves and kicking his feet absently against the edge of the roof. Then Genesis asked, his voice soft and hesitant, “Is it… painful?” 

“Not exactly,” Cloud admitted. “Just… bad memories, I guess.” He took a deep breath, blew it out. Pieces of Genesis’s consciousness flickered at the back of his mind, flashes of an ugly pain in his left shoulder, the fear of knowing the wound wouldn’t heal. He pushed them down firmly. “I can deal with it,” he continued, reassuring himself as much as Genesis. “It just… it sneaks up on me.” 

Genesis nodded. “ _ Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. _ ”

“It’s hardly a gift,” Cloud muttered. 

“That’s why it’s a mystery,” Genesis said dryly. 

Cloud snorted. There was no mystery to it - it was Jenova’s cells in his body, put there by a mad scientist who’d dismissed him as a failure without ever understanding just how well he’d succeeded. The only “gift” that had come of it was the ability to face Sephiroth - the insane remnant version from Cloud’s own timeline - and win. 

And yet… maybe, in a strange way, Genesis had a point. If Cloud hadn’t suffered through the lab, if he hadn’t pretended to be Zack Fair, SOLDIER First Class, long enough to reach a point where facing Sephiroth as Cloud Strife - a nobody - was even possible… what would have happened? In his original timeline, or this one? 

“Next time,” Cloud grumbled, half to himself, “the Goddess can pick a different cat’s-paw.” 

“Hopefully she won’t need another one,” Genesis said. “But if she does… you’ve done more than your share. She’ll let someone else be the hero.” He smiled at Cloud from under his bangs, almost shy - an odd look on someone who normally lived for dramatic theatrics. “You’ve earned a chance to rest.” 

Cloud didn’t have anything to say to that, and they lapsed into silence. It was peaceful, sitting here on the roof, letting the breeze ruffle their hair and the setting sun warm their skin. The tide was rolling in, the ocean waves growing taller and chasing small children laughing up the beach. 

Genesis said, “ _ The wind sails over the water's surface / Quietly, but surely _ .” 

With Genesis’s memories in his head, Cloud understood it as the question it was. “ _ Even if the morrow is barren of promises / Nothing shall forestall my return _ ,” he answered. “Just… don’t expect me to speak  _ Loveless _ all the time, okay?” 

Genesis raised an eyebrow at him. “You know, Sephiroth  _ hates _ it when I quote  _ Loveless _ to him.”

Cloud blinked. “That… is a very good point.” It hardly made up for having someone else’s memories shoved into his head, but while Cloud had given up actively trying to kill Sephiroth, he still took a grim sort of pleasure in giving him grief. After all, a Sephiroth human enough to be annoyed by teasing was a Sephiroth human enough to not go on a killing spree. 

And… it still wasn’t okay, wouldn’t ever  _ be _ okay - but Kunsel and Sephiroth had been right. Genesis hadn’t shoved pieces of himself into Cloud on purpose, hadn’t wanted it to happen. Cloud could deal with the extra memories, had years of experience by now with keeping them under control. Maybe… maybe if they were careful, now that they knew what might happen…

Maybe they could still make things work - and annoy the  _ shit _ out of Sephiroth in the process. 

Smiling to himself, Cloud looked back out over the water; after a moment Genesis did too, and they sat in companionable silence as the sun sank below the waves.


End file.
